Lay Me To Sleep
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: In a twist of events their magic has been rendered useless. Now a ragtag group of young witches and wizards are on a race to save their lives from a mysterious foe but personal issues may threaten their lives just as much as their enemy. Next Gen
1. Prologue: The Unknown

The room was cold, of that she was sure. Not because of any outside indicators- there was no numbing or tingling feeling in her fingertips, no goose bumps on her flesh, her breath wasn't really coming out in smoke-like puffs- but because logic dictated it. It was early December and the entire room consisted of stone walls which just bounced the cold air around the room and had no insulation to keep the chill out or warm up the air already inside. But she had been lucky enough to have her coat and her gloves so her hands were warm enough that she could actually feel them as she tried to pry open the only window in the room which seemed to be frozen in place.

She couldn't remember how she had gotten there for the life of her and that frightened her more than anything. Never before had she been so unaware of how she ended up somewhere, not even because she had been sick. In all honesty the last thing she remembered was arguing with her brother which wasn't that rare of an occurrence. Siblings _did_, after all, tend to fight but being twins and having been stuck together since the womb it seemed that they fought worse tan normal siblings. And to be honest it was generally about quite ridiculous things. For example the last fight before she got into the situation she as currently in had been over her brother's ridiculous and incessant need to be overprotective, usually being even more protective than their own father was. And while she could handle it decently when they were young she had become increasingly annoyed but it since they reached adulthood, feeling that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

In retrospect, however, this probably could have been a good time to skip fighting over it, a good time to _not_ go storming out without her want. If she had done that instead of continuing her pattern of being overly tough and self-sufficient then perhaps she wouldn't have ended up completely and totally alone in a cold stone room with a heavy locked door. Wandless magic wasn't an art she was skilled in so without that seemingly pathetic little wooden stick was out of luck magically speaking.

Lorcan Scamander blew on her hands and rubbed them together knowing that the only reason that they didn't feel numb to her at the moment was because adrenaline was making it so, the desire to get out of there driving her on. The room was too cold for then _not_ to be numb and she was uncertain as to how long she had been in there. If she didn't remember how she had gotten there it was impossible to remember _when_ she got there. For all she knew she could have been there for hours; for all she knew she could have been there for over a day. The fact of the matter is that she had absolutely no way of knowing for sure which only served to make the situation that much more intimidating.

Taking a slow, deep breath she placed her hands on the bottom of the window, the window that was open just a crack. She wasn't sure _why_ the window was left partially open. She could hear people outside of the room, talking to each other and while she couldn't really heart what they were saying the voices were distinctly male. But if people were there, if as she had suspected they had brought her there, she couldn't understand why they would leave the window open even the slightest bit. She could only reason that they either didn't think she would even _attempt_ to open the window after checking the door and finding it locked _or_ they hadn't expected her to wake up yet. But if it was the first one then that was asinine. Anyone in her position would try to get out the window if the door were locked.

Gripping the window tightly in her hands she froze for a moment when she heard the sound of someone moving around outside the room, taking a slow and deep breath and then holding it because it wouldn't have done her any favors to have whoever is out there to hear her fooling around with the window. It would only serve the purpose of having them come in there and she didn't even want to begin to think about what could possibly happen to her were they to do that. But after a moment whoever was out there walked away from the door and once their footsteps faded away she turned her attention back to the window, gripping it tightly in her hands, so tightly that she had grit her teeth and pushed it up, watching the window very slowly move up until the opening was just wide enough for her to squeeze through.

Glancing back towards the door behind her she decided that it was now or never and pressed her palms against the windowsill, lifting herself up off of the ground and inching through the space, her torso bent over to the outside, glancing down at the snow-covered ground beneath her and knowing that there was a very good chance that when she landed she'd hurt herself. But that was a risk she was willing to take because all manner of horrible things could have happened to her if she were to stay inside. So she took another slow and deep breath and pushed herself off of the ledge, her body falling to the ground with a barely audible thud, barely able to put her hands out in front of her to brace herself from the impact to make sure that it wasn't her face that made contact with the ground, whimpering softly as her leg caught slightly on a jagged edge and her skin split open.

She didn't let herself think about that pain for long though, merely stayed there long enough to catch her breath and then stood as quickly as she could, brushing herself off and glancing both ways to make sure no one was outside with her and then she pushed herself up off of the ground and ran. She ran as fast as she could, ducking through the wooded area around her, branches scratching at her arms and her face as she tried to bat them away, her skin protesting against the assault as much as her lungs protested about the sharp intake of cold air but her adrenaline was pumping, her survival instinct taking complete and total control of her as she ran through the trees.

Behind her she could hear a heavy door slamming open and a man yelling out in words she can't quite process but she didn't look back. She didn't slow down. She just kept running for her life. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lysander Scamander was used to his sister taking his protectiveness badly though that didn't make him anymore amused by the situation- or happy about it for that matter. Sometimes he wound think that that he wasted a lot of time and energy worrying about her when she didn't seem to appreciate it but even if that was the truth he couldn't stop himself from worrying about her. He was her older brother and though he was merely minutes older that _still_ made him the older sibling and as such he felt like it was his duty to ensure that she was alright and sometimes that meant protecting her from herself and her terrible taste in men.

He didn't understand how it was that she always seemed to find herself drawn to the most undesirable of men, the kinds that he would rather hex into oblivion than see on the arm of his sister. Most of the time she chose the ones that were pretty much useless, either too idiotic to get out of their own way or too dense to realize that he was only talking them to size them up and not to make friends. And whenever he told Lorcan that he doesn't think they were good enough for her she would get rather annoyed, puffing out her cheeks and pursing her lips together, her blue eyes narrowing in on him like she wished she could kill him with her gaze right there. Sometimes it just really did get rather old and yet he did it over and over again, trying to protect his sister from herself and her bad choices in men. It wasn't appreciated, of course. He didn't expect it to be. But he did it all the same.

Once again he and Lorcan had gotten into a rather large fight over his inability to stop from trying to protect her from herself, a large enough fight that Lorcan had gotten mad enough to throw something at his head which he very narrowly was able to avoid. And then, once the item was thrown and she had screamed at him for what seemed to be forever she had stormed out of the house leaving Lysander about ready to pull his own hair out in annoyance, another thing he was very, very used to even though it still frustrated him to almost no end.

And within an hour of that he had been unable to stay inside of the house any longer and had left, finding his way to Lily's home where he normally went whenever he needed to calm down after a rather frustrating encounter with his sister. And, as usual, Lily had simply let him inside and sat there while he continued to rant over his sister and her attitude, the entire time with this almost self-satisfied smile on her face like she was either overly amused by the whole thing or as though she were sympathizing with Lorcan.

After a while he had stopped complaining though and was sitting on her couch, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand, a fire burning in Lily's fireplace. Every once in a while he would swish the liquid around in the glass and lift it up to take a sip out of in, flinching very slightly at the taste and then lowering his arm back down to hang over the arm. And then he'd tilt his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, groaning quietly because the alcohol is getting to his head, making his mind spin a little bit. And he knows that one of two things will happen- one of two things that always happens will happen- which is he'll either stop himself from drinking anymore so he can get himself home after he sobers up a bit or he'll end up passing out right there on the couch and Lily will leave him there for the night and just wake him up in the morning to get him to go home.

A knock at the door made him groan quietly and open his eyes, lifting up his hand to rub at them. The knocking came again, frantic this time and he glanced over his shoulder towards the hall. The sound of the shower had stopped by now but he didn't know how long Lily was going to take in there so he couldn't count on her to answer the door. So, given that fact he groaned again, placing his glass on the coffee table and slowly standing up, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "Coming!" he yelled out towards the door. "Keep your knickers on!"

He made his way slowly towards the door, glancing back behind him once more in case Lily had come out into the hallway only to find that she was still in the bathroom and then reached out, grasping the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open, his blue eyes clearing up almost instantly and widening when he gazed outside. "Lorcan?"

His sister stood there, her dark hair hanging around her face in a dirty mess in almost oily strings. Her arms were wrapped around herself, shivering in the cold air with nothing but her jumper around her torso to keep her warm. On her cheek, just below one of her equally blue eyes there was a huge, dark bruise that took up almost that entire region of her face. She looked like hell warmed over, her teeth chattering, her lips chapped, her eyes wide with a manic, fearful look shimmering deep within them. He could honestly say that he had never seen her look like that before, not even remotely close.

"Bloody hell," he breathed quietly, reaching out and wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders and tugging her into the house and out of the cold. He all but slammed the door behind her, turning his head a little bit to look at her, his dark eyebrows furrow and he puts both of his hands on her upper arms, eyes narrowing a bit. "Lorcan? What happened?"

Lily paused in the doorway, watching Lysander handle his sister, watching the girl standing there like she's in shock and then rushed forward, wrapped up tightly in her dressing gown, coming up next to them and shooing Lysander's hands and wrapping one arm around the brunette girl's shoulder, clicking her tongue at Lysander in distaste. "Let the girl sit down," she scolded and steered the girl over to the couch, sitting her down and crouching down in front of her. "I'll see you some tea, shall I?" she suggested mildly, giving her a small smile as she stood back up and glanced at Lysander to try to remind him to be sensitive given that his sister was quite obviously very, very upset.

Lysander almost rolled his eyes at Lily as if to let her know that he was well aware that his sister was upset, to be as sensitive as he could around her. As much as he liked to argue with his sister he wasn't about to be insensitive right now given how upset she seemed to be right now. So, once Lily moved away from the couch he crouched down in front of his sister, reaching out and taking her hands in his. "What happened, Lorcan?" he asks her again. "Are you alright?"

Lily bit down on her bottom lip as she turned to head into the kitchen and make the tea only to freeze when she heard Lorcan reply in such a quiet voice that the actual words couldn't be made out. So rather than actually heading into the kitchen she turned around and stood in the doorway, watching the two of them.

Lysander furrowed his own eyebrows at his sister, shaking his head a bit. "I couldn't make that out."

"I've been followed," Lorcan repeats quietly.

"By who?"

Lorcan lifted her gaze up slowly, meeting her brother's eyes from underneath her hair, holding his gaze for several moments. "Him," she tells him.

"Who would that be?"

She paused for a long moment, her eyes fixed on his so intently that it almost makes his breath catch in his throat. "I don't know," she tells him after a moment. "I don't know who he is."


	2. Chapter 1: His Little Game

Dominique Weasley glanced in the mirror over her shoulder towards where her brother was lying on her bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and holding a book up into his line of vision, tapping one of his feet in some kind of a rhythm that no one but Louis himself seemed to know. She kept her gaze locked on him for a moment before looking back at her reflection in the mirror, lifting up her hairbrush so that she could run it through her pale blonde hair. She was used to her brother spending time with her in her room like that, taking over the bed as though it were his own and reading some random muggle book that Uncle Harry had gotten for him. Uncle Harry was actually the biggest provider of muggle material though, sometimes, Aunt Hermione would bring muggle things for them to take a look at.

"Reading anything interesting?" she queried, putting her silver handled brush down onto her vanity table and turning around in her seat so she could look at him without turning her head, reaching up and pulling her hair back with the little tie that's around her wrist and leaning back against the vanity, resting her elbows on it, cocking her head slightly to the side and crossing her legs, lounging her petite little body out as she watched her little brother.

"Somewhat," he replied, arching both of his eyebrows so that they were barely visible over his book, his long and lanky legs still shaking as he tapped his foot and then reaching up and turning one of the pages with his long, slender fingers. "I'm not far enough into it to really judge yet."

Dominique tilted her head slightly to the side, arching both of her eyebrows at him as well, not surprised that she hadn't gotten a complete and total answer from him. That day was to be a relaxing day for them, something that they hadn't had in a long time. Recently it had become quite obvious that their dear older sister's boyfriend was quickly getting used to the idea of possibly marrying their sister in time. And since Victoire had figured that out she had spent the entire week basically talking to them about it. After a while it had gotten quite bothersome. That day, however, Vic wasn't with them which meant that they didn't have to deal with her floating around the house talking about how she might end up being Mrs. Ted Lupin. It had begun to get pretty annoying.

Climbing off of the little seat in front of her vanity she made her way over to the bed and climbed up onto it next to her brother, leaning her back against the headboard, crossing her little legs much in the way her brother had his crossed, looking over his arm so she could glance at the pages of the book. "You weren't lying that you weren't that far into the book."

Closing her eyes she lounged out on the bed, sliding down so that her head was resting against one of her pillows. Back when they were kids all three of them used to do that, lay out on the bed like that, just lounging out and spending the day together sometimes, talking to each other and playing games. And then they'd end up falling asleep together most of the time, the three of them lounged out like that until either their mother or father came in to wake them up and let them know that it was time for breakfast. It was nice and relaxing and they enjoyed it a great deal. But since they were now older they didn't often get to spend time on the bed together like that, in part because they all had their own lives and in part because they were at an age where if people knew they did that they would probably find something gross and disturbing about it.

It was only a matter of time before their sister came over and started floating around again about her and Teddy but until then Dominique was more than content to lay there and let her brother read his book in complete and utter silence. But as Murphy's Law states, as soon as you want silence and then get it something has to happen to disrupt it and this time it happened to come in the form of an owl tapping at the window.

Opening her blue eyes she turned her head to look towards the window, narrowing her eyes at the owl tapping at it incessantly. "It's Lily's," she informed her brother easily, taking in the appearance of the white owl resting on the windowsill.

Louis lowered his book and looked over with his equally blue eyes, resting the book on his chest and watching the owl for a moment before he sighed a bit, reaching over to the bedside table so he could grab the bookmark from where it was lying and slip it into the book to keep his place and then stood up from the bed, throwing his long, jean-clad legs over the side of it and dropping his book down onto the bed, watching it bounce a little as it landed and then making his way over to the window, undoing the latch and letting the owl hop inside and sit on the inside sill. Reaching down he took the letter out of the owl's beak and then, as soon as the letter was removed the owl turned around and flapped its wings, taking off into the night to return home.

Dominique reached out and took the letter from her brother, sitting on the edge of the bed while she watched Louis close the window, sticking one finger into the flap of the envelope so she could open it up and pull out the little slip of paper inside, reading their cousin's scrolling script on the paper, her pale eyebrows furrowing for a moment as she looked up at him. "She wants us to come over there."

Louis groaned and sat down on the windowsill, reaching up and running a hand over his pale blonde hair. "Today?"

"She says it's an emergency."

"Doesn't she always?"

"I think this time she really means it."

Dominique sat in one of the chairs across from where Lorcan is sitting on the couch, legs curled up to her chest, wrapped up in Lily's dressing gown, one hand lifted up to her mouth as she chews down on the nail of her thumb. Watching the younger, darker haired girl with that shell-shocked look in her blue eyes made her uncomfortable, made her shift awkwardly and turn her gaze over to where her brother was leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, long legs stretched out slightly in front of him, ankles crossed.

She lifted up her own hand to her mouth, put the thumb nail between her teeth and bit down and then put her hand back down in her lap almost as soon as she realized that she's doing it. Dominique Amelia Weasley was not a nail bitter and she was not going to start being one at that point. no matter how upsetting it was to see that girl sitting there like that, like she wasn't even in their reality anymore she wasn't about to start chewing on her nails.

Uncurling her legs from beneath her, stretching out her petite little body and standing up, she nodded slightly in the direction of the kitchen where Lily and Lysander disappeared, catching her brother's eyes, silently telling him that they should head into the kitchen and speak to Lily and Lysander so that maybe they could find out what was going on. Obviously they're not going to find anything out from Lorcan seeing as she didn't even seem aware that they were there.

Louis nodded slightly, a barely there action of acknowledgement and agreement, him saying that they should head on in to talk to them, to try to figure out what it was that was happening to the young brunette sitting there. he thought, for a moment, that perhaps they should say something to Lorcan, let her know that they were leaving the room but he didn't really think that she'd acknowledge them if they did that anyway so it just didn't seem worth it. Under different circumstances he would have told her that, he would have bid her goodbye or something of the like but if she was barely aware it seemed utterly pointless.

Uncrossing his ankles he stepped away from the fireplace, following after his petite older sister into the kitchen, finding Lysander leaning against one of the counters and looking about a decade or so older than he actually was, weary and distraught, his skin pulled in a taunt way over his face revealing just how frustrating this all was for him. Lily sat there on the counter directly next to Lysander, long legs dangling, swinging back and forth slightly. Her bright red hair was a mess from having dried without really being taken care of after her shower, slightly frizzed and in messy, unorganized waves.

"So, which one of you is going to tell me exactly why we're here? And, while we're at it, does someone want to tell me what happened to Lorcan and why she looks like a zombie out there?" Dominique couldn't say that her brother was necessarily subtle but he got his point across which was the most important thing. And, really, she had been wondering the exact same thing so she didn't bother trying to tell him to be more sensitive to the situation. Sure, he could have posed the question in a different manner but she wasn't about to argue that with him.

Lily turned her head to look at them first, her blue eyes portraying just how worried she was and the fact that while she was worried she was trying to stay calm. And she wasn't trying to stay calm for them or for Lorcan, that much was completely and totally obvious. She was sure that Lily was pretending not to be worried for Lysander's sake. it was obvious, for quite some time, that Lily had a bit of a soft spot for Lysander but they had no idea to what extent it went, whether it was just friendship or if she felt something more. And she had never dared to ask because it really didn't bother her all that much. She really didn't need to know.

Reaching up Lily put a hand on Lysander's broad shoulder and left it there, squeezing down gently like she's trying to help him remain calm. Which was a big signal to both Dominique and her brother that whatever happened it wasn't something that was good, it wasn't something easy and simple. Or else he would just lay it all out for them. Or, perhaps, they wouldn't have even been called at all.

"We don't actually know," the young redhead finally said, taking her hand off of Lysander's shoulder so she could tuck some of her hair behind one of her ears, dragging her fingers through the strands so that she might untangle some of the knots that were there.

Dominique furrowed her pale eyebrows and took a seat at the small table, sitting closer to her cousin and Lysander while her brother took a seat on the opposite side of the table so they could both watch the people in the room with them. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"Exactly what I said. We don't know."

Arching an eyebrow this time instead of furrowing them Dominique turned her head slightly to look at her brother but was only met with an impassive gaze as he lounged out in the chair, resting one elbow on the back of it as he slid further down in it and stretched out his legs to rest his feet on the chair between them. Finding no help there- and no backup in her confusion though she reasons he must be confused as well- she turned her attention back towards her cousin. "How can you _not_ know what happened?"

"She came here. Just like that." Lysander finally lifted his head up to regard the two blondes sitting at the table, his eyes betraying the worry that he's feeling for his sister. Lysander, as brothers are known to do, often worried about his sister but for some reason this seemed different, stronger, maybe worse. For as long as Dominique and her family had known the Scamander twins- and they had known them for quite some time- Lysander had always been particularly good at worrying about Lorcan, had been seemingly more invested in that than in worrying about himself or taking care of himself. Lorcan always seemed to come first. Every time and any time that it mattered.

"Just showed up here, dirty and bloody, a real mess. She wasn't herself…but she won't tell me too much about what happened. I don't even think she remembers much." He shrugged his shoulders a little bit as though he's shrugging it off when Dominique is positive he's doing no such thing. She doesn't think Lysander would ever shrug off anything that happened to his little sister that happened to be less than desirable. It wouldn't even have to be all that horrid, just a little bit bad, and she's sure that Lysander would be all over fixing it or helping her. So, Dominique imagines it must be difficult for him not to know how he can fix things, how he can help his sister.

Glancing over her shoulder the petite blonde woman licks awkwardly at her bottom lip and glances towards the kitchen doorway, wondering what the hell could have possibly happened to Lorcan, wondering it for about the hundredth time since they got there. She tries to imagine something that frightening, that damaging, something that could actually make her get into that state, a state where she seems to barely even be able to breathe. Right now she seems as though she's trapped within herself and she feels quite badly for the younger woman, wishes that there was something that she could do to help her but, bloody hell, if her own brother doesn't even know what upset her so badly, what has gotten her in this state, then she's sure that there's absolutely no way that she can do anything to help.

"Did she say anything?" Louis takes his elbow off of the chair and stretches his arms out in front of him to clasp his hands together and then stretches them up over his head, moving like some kind of a cat, a small groan rumbling deep within his chest. "Or has she been silent like that the whole time?" It was a valid question, of course. She isn't sure how important it is to know if she said anything at all, mostly because she figures if Lorcan had said something important either of them would have spoken up about it, would have told them already.

"She said she was being followed," the elder Scamander twin replies with an almost sarcastic laugh. He's still laughing that strange, almost manic type of laugh as Lily's hand reaches up and runs over his short, dark hair. "But, you know, of course that's insane. If she had been followed then…whoever followed her would be here by now. We would have seen then, herd them. Something. But there's no one. No one has been around at all. And I went outside. I looked. Nothing. Not even any footprints that weren't hers. There was nothing there. Nothing at all."

Lily glances over at her cousins while she continues to run her hand over Lysander's hair, soothingly, maternally, like a mother soothing a child after they fell, skinned their knee and started to bawl their eyes out. But he's not crying and he didn't fall and skin his knee. He's worried about his little sister and left in a state where he has no idea what he should do. and for that and for so many other reasons Lily gets this look in her eyes, this look that isn't really fear but is close to it, this look that shows just how worried she for the elder Scamander child. And not just for him but about him. Because at the moment he's as lost as sister is. He just hasn't retreated into himself the way Lorcan has.

"All we know for sure," Lily began, picking up where Lysander left off when she realizes that he doesn't seem to want to continue. "Is that Lorcan and Lysander were bickering earlier today over Lysander being overly protective. Lorcan got upset, stormed out. Lysander came over here to talk to me. And then she showed up on my doorstep, freezing, with a bloody gigantic bruise on her cheek. She said she had been followed; Lysander asked by whom and she just said 'him'. She claims not to know who the person she's referring to is, though. We don't really know much of anything useful, to be honest. I wish we did. Perhaps then we could help her."

Reaching up Lysander moves her hand away from his hair and straightens himself out, smoothing down his jumper, his face weary and taunt which makes him look about a decade older than he already had. He glances towards Lily and then to the blonde siblings and then to the doorway before sighing heavily and running a hand over his own hair, shaking his head. "I have to owl Mum and Dad. To hell with their bloody vacation." Besides, his parents would probably all but murder him were they to find out that something happened to his sister and he didn't tell them.

"You think I'm mental."

Lysander's eyes went instantly back to the doorway, watching his sister slink in through the doorway almost as though compelled by some outside force, one hand raised up towards her mouth, thumb nail resting on her bottom lip. The dressing gown she had borrowed from Lily once the younger girl had taken her wet clothes away had shifts open a bit revealing the pale line of skin between her breasts. Her eyes were wide and shinning with something that was too close to amusement for comfort.

He furrowed his dark eyebrows at her, pushing himself away from the counter to take a step towards her. "What are you talking about?"

"You think I'm mental," his sister replied in a singsong type of voice, stepping into the room, one foot places delicately in front of the other like she were dancing, her bare feet hitting the cold tiles of the floor. "Because you didn't see him. You went outside and he wasn't there. He wasn't there so you think I'm mental."

"I don't-"

"But you _will_ see him," she insisted, cutting him off before his protest could finish coming out. "You'll see him. Because he's coming after you, too. All of you. Little prizes in his little game. You think I'm mental but you'll learn the truth. And there will be nothing you can do about it."

Her eyes widened slightly in amusement, her hand falling away from her mouth and she threw her head back, laughing manically, the sound echoing throughout the kitchen.


End file.
